7 Husband, Who is The Real One | BTS

Chapter 11 - Nightmare's Grip

Y/N thrashed awake, drenched in a cold sweat that made her white nightgown cling to her shivering form. Her heart raced as flickers of the nightmare danced behind heavy lids, tormenting her with their fragmentary vividness. She remembered falling amid the ashy gray of dusk, grasping desperately at a rocky outcropping as the abyss below swallowed the sinking sun. And then, at the cliff's edge silhouetted against bloody twilight, a figure—a distorted, almost unrecognizable shape—seemed to watch her with a twisted glee as she slipped, slipping—

A choked sob shattered the silence. She fumbled for the glowing orb on her bedside table, her hands trembling. The soft, ethereal light cast dancing shadows on the walls. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the image of the orb's glow.

"Who was it?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why was their face so... distorted? What did it mean?"

A wave of dread washed over her. She tried to remember more details of the dream, but they were hazy and fragmented. What had happened before she fell? Why had she seen the figure there? And what was it doing to her?

The questions raced through her mind, a whirlwind of fear and confusion. She tried to shake it off, to convince herself it was just a bad dream. But the image of the distorted figure, its outline filled with a grotesque sense of malice, kept replaying in her mind.

She knew sleep would not return, so rose on shaking legs to pace the room, wringing sore hands as flickers of the dream mingled with reality. Outside her window, the moon was but a sliver amid dense woods suffused in the deepest blue, and for a brief, irrational moment, she feared to see the figure peering in, its distorted face illuminated by the moonlight.

A log crumbled in the hearth, scattering golden sparks, and she flinched violently before gathering her wits. Just a dream. Just a dream... Or was it?

She pulled the covers over her head, trying to bury herself in the familiar warmth, but the chill of fear refused to be banished.

Desperate for relief, Y/N swung her legs over the bed and slipped on a robe. She wandered aimlessly through the house, her mind racing with the terrifying images from her dream. As she reached the east terrace, she paused, drawn by the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the trees.

Silhouetted against the luminous backdrop, she saw a familiar figure standing at the edge of the terrace. Taehyung, his back to her, seemed lost in thought. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his face etched with a look of concern.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Is everything alright?"

Y/N nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I had a terrible dream."

Taehyung stepped closer, his arms outstretched. Without hesitation, Y/N stepped into his embrace. His warmth was comforting, a tangible anchor in the swirling chaos of her mind.

As they stood together, the moonlight casting long, dancing shadows around them, Y/N began to share the details of her nightmare. Taehyung listened intently, his expression growing more sombre with each chilling revelation.

"It's just a dream," he said, his voice gentle. "Nothing to be afraid of."

But Y/N wasn't convinced. The fear had burrowed deep into her soul, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Taehyung understood. He tightened his hold on her, his touch a silent promise of protection.

"I'm here for you, Y/N," he said, his voice firm. "Whatever happens, I won't let anything hurt you."

As the night wore on, the fear began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of peace and security. Y/N leaned against Taehyung, her body trembling slightly. He stroked her hair, his movements slow and deliberate.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered. "I promise."

And as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, Y/N finally felt a sense of calm wash over her. The nightmare had been terrifying, but with Taehyung by her side, she had found the strength to face her fears and emerge stronger on the other side.

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~To be continued~